sinning to redemption
by conventionalfallacy
Summary: Katherine took control of Stefan and he let go. He was hers for a time and she didn't tell Elena. (Katherine knew how to keep secrets and it was only a matter of time.) Goodness like Elena's might work for someone like Damon, but Stefan needed darkness like hers to match him, surpass him, let him fall. They were quite a pair, she and Stefan. In the end, he'd always belong to her.


_Steferine. Set somewhere from late S2 to when Katherine leaves Mystic Falls. Don't know or care where in that timeline this falls. Also, I'm legitimately kind of scared of getting persecuted off of FF because of the content of the stories I upload. Oh well?_

_Warnings: Technically Stefan's cheating on Elena. If either that or a certain level of power exchange (without explicit communication behind it) bothers you, maybe leave this one alone._

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**sinning to redemption**

Stefan was always hers.

Once, Damon had been hers too, and he'd been hers much better than Stefan ever was. He loved with a single-minded intensity that could carry him through over a hundred years of solitude. She hadn't been there. The touch of her hand on the back of his neck, the violence in her eyes when she drank in his worshipful gaze, none of that present to enforce his loyalty. No, he'd loved her of his own accord and waited for her of his own volition. When it came down to it, Katherine had never known anyone who loved with the passion that Damon Salvatore did. Pity she hadn't loved him in return, but she was a good liar and he'd never seemed to mind too much. He'd loved her for who she was.

That's how Katherine had known. From the very first, she knew that there would be a moment of choice with Damon. Their story would go one way or the other. He'd either give himself over to her completely or break with her forever. A consuming love like Damon's knew no middle ground. So when he fell for Elena, when they were finally decided, she had no reason to be surprised. She'd have preferred having him, of course. The _things_ a woman like Katherine could do with ownership of a man like Damon in mind, body, and soul would have been extraordinary. She could have shaped him with her own hands, molded him into a form that pleased her until he no longer made the choice, simply submitted to her will. But that ship had sailed. Damon chose Elena, and Katherine knew him. She knew he was never going to return to her.

Stefan was different. His rejections impermanent. Stefan could push her away throughout time, and he'd always come back. He might fight it, but Stefan Salvatore belonged to Katherine Pierce as surely as if she'd branded him. He'd feared her, he'd shunned her, he'd hated her, he'd moved on. And he always came back. Or maybe it was just that she couldn't quite let him go. Katherine protected her neck. That didn't mean that she didn't like Stefan's quite a bit as well, when it came down to it. His neck was hers. He could run to her doppelganger all he wanted (why had he been interested in the girl anyway, save that the girl looked like Katherine?) but Stefan Salvatore belonged to Katherine Pierce, and she would claim that right whether he wanted her to or not.

It seemed, however, that he did. "Stefan." She curved her body in the doorway to his bedroom, leaning on the frame with her hip out to the side in such a way that if he wished to pass he'd have to all but press himself to her. "Skipping school?" Her lips curved upwards in a pretty smirk. Superficially innocent, but the mischief that roiled beneath her expression was almost palpable. No one ever got their power from admitting to anything too early. Stefan had come to her, but he'd have to crawl before she'd bend.

"Katherine." He hadn't worn such a bone-weariness once upon a time. While always the more serious brother, Stefan still had once been light. Just wait, she wanted to tell him. You might get back there eventually. You're not even two hundred yet. Forever is a longer time than you think.

"You came." She deliberately kept her voice light, gentle, as she stepped into his room. Ever so slowly, she closed the door behind her. He made no attempt to move away, no indication that her presence was unwelcome.

"You asked for me."

"It's not an emergency."

He stood at his dresser and she stalked a half-circle around him. It was a test. She always had to give tests. Katherine didn't derive her power from physical force, but from charisma. Chemistry. Of course, she was far older than Stefan and drank human blood, so she could overpower him in an instant. That wasn't the point, though. Any brute could force someone to the ground. Threat of death could make anyone crawl. She prowled around Stefan like a lioness. She'd take him without lifting a finger. That was how it had always been with her.

"I…" His voice shook a little. He knew what came next, as it always had before. Second Petrova doppelganger girlfriend or not. This part of them operated outside the rules. He'd blame her for it later. He'd be angry and he'd claim it never happened, claim he never wanted her, could never want her (again). She didn't mind. She hated sharing, but she knew a little something about balancing. Elena was temporary. "I know."

A sinful smile curled across Katherine's face. There. "You know it's not an emergency. You know I don't need you to save me?" she purred.

Slowly, reluctantly, but inevitably, Stefan nodded.

"Then." Katherine's demeanor changed in an instant. Hers. Always hers. Maybe for only this moment, but another one would come, and that made it always. Her precious, _honorable_ Stefan. She glided forward, hips swaying in that way that just screamed Katherine. Her hands folded on his shoulder, lips pouting with the most self-confident of smiles. "Go lock the door."

Back ramrod straight, self-control sparking along his every inch, Stefan moved to lock the door. By contrast, Katherine stood all-liquid in her stiletto heels. Her clothes caressed her body like a second skin. She was in her element. This was 1864, the power of virginal innocence and predatory self-confidence. In Stefan's bedroom, time didn't matter. He turned the lock and looked back to her, something between despair and desire warring in his eyes. She wanted to take it in. To take him in her mouth and drink down everything he was until she'd stolen him from himself. Because she was Katherine Pierce and she was selfish like that.

"Come here." There was no cruelty in her voice, not yet, but it was an order. He heeded her command without hesitation. When he stood before her, she placed her hands (so small, compared to him) on his shoulders and pushed down. Not hard. Not physical force. She dragged her fingertips down his chest as much as she could, and reveled in his shudder as he knelt. Elena Gilbert couldn't do this. It was a petty thought, but Katherine didn't care. Elena couldn't bring Stefan to his knees. She probably hadn't even tried.

"My sweet, _good_ Stefan." Her voice was mocking. The tip of her index finger trailed around his throat, burning a path across his skin. "Trying so hard for all the wrong things."

He twitched, but to his credit held still. He'd play this to the hilt. She buried her hand in his hair, dragging back on his scalp until he was looking up at her like a supplicant worshipping his bellicose goddess.

"You're _terrible_," Katherine whispered, and her voice raked across his skin like hot coals. It swirled through the room like desert air, drowning them both in heat and sand. "Terrible, terrible Stefan."

He shook again. So little touch, and he was already coming undone. She could feel heat in her own skin. Loose, liquid desire stirred her, filled her with lust. Power and sex were one, and she'd have both. She wanted his touch, but she wanted it on her terms.

"Katherine…" His voice shuddered, tongue caressing her name like she'd taught it to do her body.

"Shh." She yanked back on Stefan's hair again, making him jump. "I didn't say you could speak, Stefan. You haven't earned that right." The vampiress leaned in, whispering into his mouth without ever really touching it. "Do as I say." She stood straight again, slinking across the room and pinning him in place with her eyes. "This is a punishment, Stefan. " For sins, both real and imagined. For choosing Elena. For whatever he decided it was about in his head (for oh, if Stefan was saddled with anything it was an abundance of guilt). "This is your punishment. Your obedience. My rules."

He swallowed and nodded.

"Watch me, Stefan," Katherine purred. "Keep your eyes on me." He wasn't going to forget who he was with. Not that he could. But if she was to have him for this moment, she would have all of him. She boosted herself up on a desk, ever casual. Ever purposeful. "Come." He made to stand. "Crawl."

What drove this man to obey her, what put him in a space where he would debase himself at her word, Katherine didn't know, but she reveled in it. Stefan's muscles bunched under his shirt as he crawled to her, his submission, her power, drawing heat down from her body to curl between her legs. Invisible strings ran from every part of her to her lower belly, wrapping tighter on the spindle that would eventually snap. For now she'd enjoy the build up.

"Good." She leaned back, palms pressed to the desk, and tipped his chin up with the toe of her heel. So defiant, so accepting. Hers. He'd grown up, but the boy who wanted to please still lived behind his eyes. "Take them off."

No matter what his expressions said, Stefan's actions were reverent. He fitted his palms around her shoe, slipping it off and placing it gently beside the desk. As he removed the second heel, a hum of satisfaction slipped from Katherine's throat. "Do you want to run?" Her voice had changed in tenor with her eyes. From play to molten heat like a queen adorned with liquid gold. "Do you want to flee me, Stefan?"

It was a challenge, but something of a coward still lived in her. She wouldn't have issued it if she thought he might actually leave. If he'd take the opportunity to go. Katherine didn't like rejection, especially from him.

Stefan remained on his knees before her. She slipped off the desk, bending down and pressing her lips to his. She remained above him, in control. A smooth stroke of her tongue parted his lips and she invaded his mouth, nipping and caressing in equal measure. As if without his consent, Stefan's hands rose to grasp her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt and running across her stomach and lower back, his technique becoming sloppier. Desire and hatred colored him. She let it happen a few more moments before she pulled back, yanking Stefan's hands away from her, though she felt the absence acutely. His touch had burned trails across her torso, filled her with empty wanting. But here she was in control. That was what kept him. That was how they balanced this.

"You want to touch me, Stefan?" Katherine raised a dark eyebrow, unbearably lovely and unbearably distant. She removed herself to a plane of higher beings and looked down on him with glee. "You like this?" For a single moment, she knelt, running her fingers along the growing bulge in his pants and making him groan at the all-too-brief contact. "I don't believe I said you could, but…" She chuckled with oh-so red lips and oh-so dirty intentions. "If you think you can just take charge like that."

Sensually, she lifted the hem of her shirt, pressing her own fingers "unintentionally" up her stomach, ribcage, until they grazed the black lace covered underside of her own breasts. Katherine watched Stefan for as long as she could, enjoying the sight of him devouring her with his eyes, before in one swift motion she divested herself of the garment, dropping it on the floor beside her bare feet.

Seizing Stefan's hands in her own, Katherine squeezed them too hard, making them wince, as she guided them to her torso. One, she placed on place where jeans met skin, the other she left on her ribs, just below her breast. "You want to touch, Stefan?" She was an angel and a demon in one, driving him insane, driving everything out of his head. "Fine. _Worship me_."

He did. Bowing his head, Stefan placed hot, open mouthed kisses to all the olive skin he could reach, the hand on her jeans snaking around her hips to pull her closer to him and hold her in place as the other slipped up underneath her bra, teasing the pebbled skin of her nipple between his fingers. Katherine arched into his touch. An involuntary groan slipped from her mouth as Stefan delved his tongue into her belly button at the same moment as he switched breasts, pinching the nipple he'd neglected.

The hand at her back flicked her bra clasp – how had she not noticed he was doing that? – black, lacy material falling forward to give Stefan better access. Her nipples tightened into even more prominent peaks at the swirl of air across their surface, even though she had not been able to feel cold for many years. Divesting herself of her now-ineffective bra, Katherine tossed it randomly across the room and fisted her hands in Stefan's hair, claw-like nails digging into his scalp and pressing his mouth to her belly. She would give him some license, when he used his fingers to touch her and bring her pleasure, the kind of pleasure that at once made her satisfied and desperately needy. But they would both remember exactly who was in control here. Who, ultimately, called the shots.

Katherine had thought Stefan no longer had the power to surprise her. Yes, they'd been separated for years upon years, but she knew him like the back of her hand. But when he trailed his face lower, down her leg even in spite of her fists yanking none-too-gently on his hair, Katherine couldn't hold back a gasp.

Ever-so-purposefully, Stefan dragged his lips down the seam of her jeans, tracing the trail with the point of his nose like an exclamation mark. Katherine's eyes fluttered closed at the direct sensation combined with his fingers still burning patterns across her body, her breasts. Her vampire, animal side stirred in her. She wanted to rut, to fuck, to drink blood and revel in sex and death and power and sensation. To teach Stefan to _live_ without becoming a true ripper. But that could come later, because he latched his mouth onto the front of her jeans over her clit and sucked hard, the scrape of his teeth pressing her pants seam into her in a way that left her instantly wet.

"Stefan." Katherine moaned his name, not sure if she was petting his head or pulling him into her as he gradually kissed lower. She spread her legs, allowing him access until he hovered under her pussy, the sensation of kisses and licks and bites as their joint efforts dampened her jeans making her shudder. It wasn't enough, but it was something and her hips bucked when his nose pressed against her clit hard enough for her to really feel it. That couldn't be an accident, not when he was working her in a way that made her knees weak, not when his hands had moved to her waist and the back of her thigh, bracing her. Katherine rolled her hips against Stefan's mouth again, taking all the friction she could get from him, from the roughness of her own pants. Not enough. He dragged his tongue up the fabric covering her slit and Katherine grabbed his face, pulling him (reluctantly) away so she could look down into his eyes.

"Stefan Salvatore." His name served as a warning now, not a plea. "Get me off _now_, or I will put you in the corner and fuck myself for _hours_." She'd do it, too. They had hit that point, no backing out now until it was done. She'd tell him to go sit in the corner on his hands and then make herself scream.

In answer, Stefan slid back between her legs, pushing her so that she sat on the desk. She spread her knees and he almost immediately got to work. This time, Stefan added his fingers, kneading her skin, rubbing over her clit and over the distinct dampness on her jeans and still sucking, biting, using that damned (wonderful) seam against her. At some point she'd clamped her legs around his head, feet on his back to press him closer into her, her head thrown back. Uncontrolled vocalizations spilled from her throat and her limbs shook with pleasure, the knot inside her unbearably tight as Stefan drew her closer and closer to her edge.

With a shout of his name, Katherine tipped over, her entire body shuddering as her hips moved of their own accord, instinctively seeking as much pleasure from the moment as she could derive. Words, time, everything was stolen from her in a crashing tsunami of pleasure, and Stefan didn't stop until she collapsed backwards on his desk, boneless, sweeping all manner of useless objects (probably his homework) away with her arms.

She only allowed herself a few seconds of recovery time before pushing herself back up into a sitting position, reaching down to caress Stefan's jaw. She was in control here. He trusted her to maintain control, to tell him what to do. He might thing he didn't like it, but Katherine knew better. Stefan was hers and he needed to be hers.

"Good," she whispered, voice thick with reward. "You're so good, Stefan. Doing what you're told. Do you think you've been punished enough?" She ran her foot along his erection, which pressed painfully against his jeans. "Do you think you've had to show enough self-restraint? Should you be rewarded? Or…?" Katherine smirked, slipping off the desk and walking towards the bed. "Strip," she ordered.

It was adorable, the way his fingers trembled as he complied. They really were back in 1864 in this room, weren't they? Just them, Stefan's uncertainty still present. But oh, he hadn't been able to make her cry out like that when she'd taught him. That was a skill he'd picked up somewhere along the way.

Katherine popped the button on her own jeans with skillful grace, dragging the fabric down her endless legs. Her pussy clenched when coolness rushed in where wet heat had been as she shamelessly stripped off her soaked underwear, dropping them on top of her pants. Stefan watched her, his eyes dark and hungry. He'd removed his shirt but gotten distracted by her own stripping. Katherine snapped her fingers impatiently. "Now."

He moved back into action, and when he too was nude, she sashayed towards him, pressing him back until his knees hit his bed and buckled, leaving him prone beneath her. This bothered Stefan, letting a woman have control. The passion and control. Consequently, Katherine always rode him. Every. Fucking. Time. She stretched languidly, catlike, as she looked down on him. "Do you want me, Stefan?" Ridiculous question. She swiped her thumb over the tip of his cock, which was already coated in precum. He nodded tightly.

Leaning over him, her hands planted on either side of his head, Katherine let a bit of her monster out. Just a little. She bared her fangs. Wicked. Seductive. Dangerous. Katherine. "Are you going to beg for me, Stefan? Are you going to beg me to fuck you, beg me to let you come like I know you want to? I don't have to, you know. I could leave you now." Not strictly true. She was bound to him as much as he was bound to her. Even after her most recent orgasm, her pussy throbbed. She missed this, him, coupling. But she was in charge. And she wouldn't back down from that.

"Katherine…"

"Beg me to fuck you, Stefan. If you want it, beg for it. Or I will walk away."

He hated to talk while in bed with her. He hated to be humiliated. Not like Damon. Damon would do anything to please her, but Stefan had his pride. His jaw clenched, the words warring in his head, whether he would spit them out or whether he would curl up with his own self-loathing. Katherine waited. She'd draw out his humiliation, draw out his shame and paint him with it like a coat of blood. Swipe it between her legs and make him lick it up. Stefan had ceded the right to make the rules, and he would follow hers.

Finally, she turned away, walking across the room to fetch her shirt.

"Please!" It was guttural, forced through his teeth. But Katherine looked back.

"What was that, Stefan?"

He'd propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch her, the dark look in his eyes intoxicating. "Please, Katherine… fuck me."

With vampire speed, she was back over him, pressing his shoulders into the bed. "I don't believe I said you could sit up, Stefan." Cocking her head to the side, Katherine pulled innocence over her face, yet another mask. "Did I?" Her smile was self-indulgent, uncontrolled. "Go on. Beg."

"Fuck me, Katherine… Ah! Let me… give me release, let me…" Control. Stefan maintained such control all the time, and she'd get him there. She'd get him free of it. But he was trying, so Katherine pressed a kiss to his shoulder, followed by a hard, savage bite. Another to his collarbone, this time using her tongue. As soon as he stopped speaking, she drew back, will ironclad.

"Beg."

"Please, Katherine." A start. She bit one of his nipples, sucking on it for a moment before releasing it. "Please don't stop," the other one, her hands up on his shoulders, trailing down after her. "Fuck me, touch me, please." Alternating kisses and bites, she moved down his torso, her hair spread out along her arms, brushing him with unintentional sensation. "God!" She smirked. _You believed once, didn't you, Stefan? And now I'm the only god you've got._

It was like the dam broke, and all of a sudden his words poured out in an almost unintelligible stream. They rolled over her, making her unbearably aroused. She broke him, broken through to him, dragged him so far though his shame that he came out the other side. And she had his shame to keep. She had those moments when he put aside his pride and submitted to her will, let himself be less than nothing at her behest. Her pussy spasmed hard on nothing at all, and she didn't want to wait anymore.

Sitting back up, Katherine slid her body against his erection until his cock brushed her clit, positioned approximately between her legs, and she twitched again. Her hands slammed into Stefan's, forming manacles around his wrists and pinning him to the bed. He wouldn't flip her. Not this time. This time, she'd make him scream. "Do you want me?" she growled.

"Yes, God, Katherine." Stefan's hips bucked in desperation, seeking more contact that she hovered to keep out of his grasp. There was wildness in his eyes, the shadows of dark veins beneath them, and as much as she loved him innocent, she loved his monster too.

"Then there's one rule." She bent over until her breasts pressed to his chest, her breath fanned across his cheek. "You can't come until I do."

Without giving him a chance to reply, Katherine sat back up and positioned his cock at her entrance, impaling herself on him. Stefan's eyes rolled back in his head and they moaned simultaneously. The sensation of fullness, stretching her and rubbing up against her in all the right ways made her insides flutter. Every touch felt magnified, her clit still hypersensitive after coming under his mouth and hands.

Lifting her hips, Katherine drove them back down to fuck Stefan at a frantic pace, heedless of his pleasure in the pursuit of her own. Motion and control already filled her with heat, need, waiting, and when his cock hit her walls in a certain way she threw her head back with wanton pleasure. Repeating the motion, sparks spread through Katherine's body, creating a crack in her frenetic rhythm as her own pleasure betrayed her domination.

Stefan gripped the bedsheets like they were a lifeline, and with the way his cock twitched in her, Katherine knew he was trying desperately to hold off his orgasm. When she teased him, drew him out, his stamina got so reduced, but then again she was going to come more quickly than she'd like too. Still, she drew it out as long as possible, the tortured, wanting, on edge expression he wore a painful reminder of how beautiful he was, how much she loved him, and yet how much his submission gave her pleasure. Nothing was quite so arousing as this utter control, her walls already clenching and unclenching of their own accord, her body shaking and fingers gripping Stefan's wrists like lifelines.

Always, he surprised her. Without her consent, outside of her control, Stefan thrust up hard just as she came down, hitting so deeply in her she felt it in her bones. Her orgasm hijacked her, white and shuddering and tongue-tying as her entire body exploded into fragments, delicious pleasure. He came moments later, with her name on his lips as she felt the heat of him, his essence coiled inside her. Hers. Always.

Katherine collapsed on Stefan's chest, pressing one last, feather light kiss to his shoulder, so faint she almost hoped he didn't feel it. Here, in this world, in his bedroom, in their moments outside of time, she was Mistress. He couldn't question that, or she might lose him. She'd get him back (Stefan was hers in the end), but it would take time she didn't want to waste.

"Well." She rolled off of him, his soft cock sliding easily out of her. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

His response was incoherent, his hand thrown over his eyes as if he didn't want to look at her. Breaking character. Katherine hissed, all predatory. Muscles tensed for a fight. Stefan lowered his arm. "I didn't release you." She would have, if not for that bad attitude. This was punishment, after all, and she'd hold him captive. "Go on, get up."

To his credit, Stefan obeyed. He sat up, and without even being instructed, gathered her clothes, placing them on the bed as Katherine rummaged through his drawers, wriggling her ass impertinently.

"Aha!" She lifted a dark red thong out of Stefan's sock drawer, smirking knowingly. "You always did keep your secrets with your socks, didn't you, Stefan?" Katherine jerked her chin towards her underclothes. "Clean those while I'm gone. I'll wear the ones I left last time." It served a quiet testament to her influence over him, that even outside of their game Stefan did that fragment of her bidding.

Katherine dressed quickly, with her Salvatore kneeling at her feet. Begging God for forgiveness, perhaps, seeking salvation from within himself. Whatever. She served that role for a reason, he needed her for it. The guilt set in so quickly after the release. But you couldn't say she didn't try. When she got her heels on, her makeup fixed and her hair in some semblance of order, Katherine bent down and placed the sweetest kiss yet to his mouth. Nostalgia, perhaps, or a sliver of affection she had to try so hard not to let in laced it. "We're done here, Stefan," she whispered. "Until next time?"

He wasn't going to answer and Katherine knew it. She still paused after unlocking his door, watching him dress. His shoulders shook just once, with something that might have been a sob, or perhaps a choked scream, and she knew she'd be back. Love, compassion, goodness like Elena's might work for someone like Damon (all he'd ever needed was to be loved). But Stefan needed darkness, darkness to match him, surpass him, let him fall. He didn't just have demons, he was one. They were quite a pair, she and Stefan. But they were a pair. Stefan was always hers.

Katherine closed the door behind her.


End file.
